


there are notches on your bedpost (and it’s all me)

by kuro49



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, M/M, Omega Jason Todd, Omega Jason Todd Week 2020, intersex omega
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:08:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23588917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuro49/pseuds/kuro49
Summary: It's not love, but it could be.
Relationships: Dick Grayson/Jason Todd
Comments: 16
Kudos: 335
Collections: omega Jason Todd week 2020





	there are notches on your bedpost (and it’s all me)

**Author's Note:**

> some courting, some nesting, some porn all tossed into one fluff blender and flicked to high power. idk what a lot of this actually is so i guess this is a fill for the free day of omega jason week 😂

Right at his heels and catching up, dirty thoughts run through his head after him as Dick chases that spot of red.

It is that same thrill that never gets old, of running across rooftops, of taking the leap, of making that dynamic swing to _fly_. This is much of the same when Nightwing finally catches Red Hood by the waist, snags two fingers into the belt hoops of Jason's tactical pants to spin him bodily around.

“Gotchu, Jay.”

Breath knocked out of his chest but without the exertion. Heart in his throat and near thrumming.

Dick can run for miles without going breathless, but he doesn’t even have to see Jason’s eyes to have stars in his own. He’s been gone for Koriand’r, and he has most definitely been in love with Babs through and through for almost just as long. 

This is that same feeling, amplified, made so much worse when Jason has forgo the leather jacket in the sweltering Gotham heat. Leaving him in just his underarmour that is looking near skin-tight against every line of his body, pulling taut across the chest where the red bat splays as he breathes, stretching near obscene around his ass as he arches his spine, and wrapping around those thighs like a second skin when he spreads them to make room just for Dick to get in between.

It's hot, and it isn't just the summer heat.

“Thought you liked the chase."

Even through the voice modulator of his helmet, Dick reads the intention. Knows the exact curve to Jason's mouth just beneath the Red Hood when they have been sleeping together for almost a year now: First more off than on, then more on than off.

But never when it really matters. Jason always disappears without a trace during his heats (his location near impossible to pinpoint when he has safe houses sprawled across Gotham and an Outlaw island to fall back on) while Dick runs back home to the Manor for the full duration of his ruts.

Still, in bat years, close to a complete year is quite the feat when there is the constant orbit of little birds and one big black bat. A near impossible feat to achieve when they have managed to keep something like this under wraps between just the two of them.

It feels like a damn right special thing.

The first time Dick leaves a mark, Jason _freaks_.

He doesn’t allow Dick to touch him for almost three weeks after, going so far (and it’s far when it’s quite literally outer space) as to go off-world with the Outlaws for the full duration it takes for the blooming little love bite to fade. Among all the other cuts and bruises Jason actually comes back with, it hardly compares.

Far more bruises showing up in far worse places.

But it is the principle of the thing, or so Jason keeps insisting.

"You don't get it, do you, dickhead?" Jason says, and it's a question but he doesn't really expect an answer because he keeps going, a hand tugging through his hair still mused from how long he's had the helmet on. The point of the matter is this: A love bite is a bruise. A bruise is a contusion is an injury caused by trauma where the capillaries of the blood vessels burst, trapping the blood below the skin to form a darkening bruise.

In every physiological sense, they are one and the same. The same symptom to a very different underlying disease.

Jason chews on the inside of his cheek, frees one hand from his hair just to have no idea what he wants to do with both of them.

"The point of the matter is," and it only makes Dick want to press his mouth to that slight hollow of Jason's cheek but that's what got him into this kind of trouble to start with, when he got carried away and applied too much pressure to what was supposed to be a simple kiss to the base of Jason's jaw. "It's that I'd know how I got it and that's what makes it different, Dick.”

Dick's lips are chapped and red, his mouth is wet and warm and Jason gives up with the press of Dick's over his own. He thinks that is Dick's way of answering his question, a pretty obvious _yeah_ , he fucking gets it but he's missed him too. If any of this is about finding a home carved out of someone, Jason thinks he’s found his. 

"You can't just disappear and not tell me shit and have it actually be over a _hickey_." Dick says in a rush of an exhale on a breath he doesn't have, smiles until it is pulling wide enough to look close to painful. Dick has never really put all that weight of this singular feeling in his chest into words. But now that he does, a full confession if Jason's ever heard one like it, Dick isn't quite so sure he can stop voicing it. "Jason, you absolute asshole." 

_I love you_ , he doesn't say. _I love you_ , he doesn't have to say at all.

In truth, they never thought they would get this far when they consider Jason with his issues and Dick with his baggage. 

And in un-truth, they are so good at lying to everyone else, they almost have themselves fooled.

“So, I was thinking.”

Dick sounds perfectly measured, perfectly content and perfectly at ease. And it's all of these things that gave him away right from the start. The man is lying sprawled out across the length of his sofa with Jason in his line of vision.

“You know that never goes well for either one of us.” Jason cuts in, dropping a hand from flipping through their shared calendar hanging on the wall of Dick’s apartment. It is a mess of events, coded at Jason’s insistence and colour-coded at Dick’s. Jason finally turns around to face him, watches the way Dick pulls a pout, his bottom lip jutting out in exaggeration, baby blues gone wide and watery.

“Don’t be mean, Jaybird.”

“Cut to the chase, goldie. What _are_ you thinking?”

“About you.”

Jason effectively rolls his eyes. He might know the answer but he still asks the question, he wants the confirmation almost as much as Dick needs his. "You've had me nearly every single way, you don't need to try so hard to romance me. So, is this about your rut, Dick?”

“This is.” Dick ducks his head downwards by a bit, smiling sheepishly with the back of his neck bared. “I want to spend it with you.”

Jason sucks in a breath through his teeth, his tongue feeling thick and heavy, and it's a noisy sound as his throat goes tight on a hard swallow for him to say. “You think I’m good for it?”

“Only if you think it’ll be good for you too.” Dick tells him, extending an arm out to try to reach for Jason.

“So you don’t just want a full sized fleshlight doubled as a chew toy.”

“A fles— _Jesus_ , little wing.” Dick sits up with a grimace but he doesn’t withdraw his hand, he holds it steady, out towards Jason. "I'm being serious."

Jason shrugs, steps into the living room from where he stood inside the kitchen. Jason plays nonchalant well but the tense line of his jaw gives him away. So does that thin waft of decay that drifts from him as he takes those last few steps to get close enough to Dick’s space. “I’ve seen what’s out there for ruts. Alphas aren't particularly quiet about the kind of things they stick their knots inside when there isn't a conveniently warm wet cunt available to them.”

“Oh god.”

Jason stands between Dick's legs, got the alpha looking up at him with those baby blues, and he can't help but laugh a little at the touch of embarrassment in Dick's expression. “First you're thinking, and now you're being serious."

Dick's scent is that same unwavering warmth, like fresh sheets drying beneath the sun. “Ha- _hah_ , Jason. No, the world isn't ending but mine might if you don't give me your answer already."

Jason drags it out for a few more minutes, liking the kind of control he has in this. When he finally climbs into Dick's lap, breathing in the scent of this alpha soon to be his, Jason settles with Dick's arms wrapping around his waist. Jason's moan is obnoxiously loud and entirely too breathless next to the shell of Dick's ear, and he sounds exactly like the kind of omega that he never is.

"Yes, alpha," Jason draws the lobe of Dick's ear between his teeth, "I'd _love_ to be your warm wet cunt."

Dick goes red enough to match Jason's Red Hood helmet, and Jason laughs hard enough to bring himself to the same shade.

Dick doesn’t like waking up in their shared bed alone.

But then again, he’s pretty sure his rut-addled brain doesn’t like anything that isn’t being knot deep inside of his omega with his canines digging into the back of that pale expanse of neck until he can draw blood from Jason. Because Jason is his omega, and that's fact.

The sheets are cool on Jason’s side of the bed, and as Dick cards a hand to soothe out the wrinkles, he feels it damp beneath his fingertips. Jason is gone and everything that remains is the reek of omega slick even in the stifling heat of the room. Dick doesn’t bother with picking up the strewn of his clothes, doesn’t even go digging for a bathrobe or a towel.

When Dick gets out of the bed and goes looking for Jason, he is stark naked with his cock already half hard, the heat of his lingering rut keeps sparking off need. 

Jason is standing out on the fire escape when he finds him. A cigarette in hand, mouth parting around a wisp of smoke, he is shirtless while a pair of sweatpants ride shamelessly low on his hips. Dick doesn’t know how to look away when Jason's got love bites tracking down the line of his spine to disappear into the waistband of those thread bare sweats. And Dick doesn’t even have to close his eyes to know the bite marks trail even further down, from the globes of his ass to the inside of those thighs.

Jason looks a bit like a well-loved chew toy, and Dick _wants_.

“Mornin’, Jay.” Dicks greets Jason with a press of his hard-on over his ass, wraps both of his hands around the perfect fit of Jason’s hips to keep him upright as his alpha scent goes overboard and Jason’s knees nearly go weak beneath him.

“Tone it down, you’re not an actual animal.” Jason gasps out, throwing an elbow behind him to try to get Dick to tamp down that overwhelming scent. All enveloping warmth. Expanding ever bigger as Dick dodges the elbow and moves to turn Jason bodily around to crowd even closer. “Christ, _Dickie_.”

Jason goes completely pliant when Dick just buries his nose into the crook of Jason’s neck, inhales like a starved man, drags his tongue across the skin there to taste the salt from their dried sweat. Dick sucks another bruise into that skin, marks him up over all the other ones he’s already left on him.

“Missed you in our nest.” Dick croons, still not pulling away, just holds on to Jason just that much harder as he rocks the two of them back and forth. It would look like they are dancing, swaying in the middle of the night on a fire escape that groans beneath their combined weight, except it's hardly that sweet.

Jason’s voice breaks, all weak and thin and reedy when Dick’s cock rubs especially hard over his own when he tries to protest. “It’s not a fucking _nest_.” 

“Whatever you say, Jay.” Dick chuckles, soft puffs of air against his throat, just enough to distract Jason as he takes the cigarette from him and stubs it out. “But my rut’s not over and it seems like you’re aching just as hard for me as I’m you.”

It takes very little convincing to bring Jason back inside of the apartment.

It’s a bed, not a nest, or Jason insists even as he is splayed out in the center of it surrounded by their clothes and their sheets and their blankets all drenched in Dick’s scent. And it’s like a fog seeping deep inside of his head until it’s the only thing Jason knows. Jason is not in heat but he might as well be when Dick climbs on top of him in all of his glory, all long sinew lines of his muscles on display, tanned to glisten in sweat over top even before he has moved to fuck Jason into the mattress.

“Don’t want me to _present_ for you?” Jason tries for a tease but his mouth feels dry on every swallow when Dick's eyes have gone all dark, blown wide with lust.

But even when he's deep in his rut, Dick's stupid puns always manage to shine through like the sun after a thunderstorm: “Don't need to, you’re already one.”

Jason doesn't need to present to be a present for Dick. And it's so fucking godawful that Jason goes a little pink from the second hand embarrassment.

Much like an omega's heat, ruts come in waves.

This one feels like a particularly big one when Jason finds himself still hazy from the last orgasm Dick forced out of him and being dragged by the ankle to the end of the bed. Jason barely has any purchase to stand on his toes before Dick is yanking both of his arms behind his back and holding him by a tight grasp around his wrists.

Dick is possessive and Jason is not oblivious enough to not see this for what it is: A declaration of ownership. Even if it hasn't been about that for hundreds and thousands of years.

It's the fact that Jason allows it. Any of it. There are bruises in the shape of Dick's fingertips, a brand new spanking print of his palm where he cracked a hand down on the curve of Jason's ass just to hear the rasp of pleasure in his omega's voice. Neither one of them have enough brain cells left to put together a coherent thought.

Because Dick is letting out a guttural noise while Jason sinks his teeth down into his lip until he leaves a sizable indent on the release. It's the nudge of Dick's cock against Jason's cunt, still red and swollen and running rivulets of Dick's cum down his legs. And he looks and feels perfect when he accommodates the alpha, swallowing him greedily down when Dick applies the barest hint of pressure to press all the way in.

Dick bottoms out in one go, swears something filthy and pretty that has Jason's toes curling in the carpets as he feels that familiar shape and size of Dick settling deep inside of him, knocking that very last breath out of him.

"D-dick, what the _fuck_ ," Jason bites out, face red, fingers flexing as Dick yanks him in by the arms on every thrust, works him back and forth over his cock, "you feel," he swallows thickly, eyes open but unseeing when every spark of focus he still has is drawn right back to where they are connected, and the sound is absolutely obscene with how wet for Dick he is, "how the fuck do you feel _bigger_?"

His disbelief brings a laugh to Dick's lips, the laugh itself dissolves into the simple noises as their bodies come together. Not brutal but hard upon impact. Their panting keeping pace with each of Dick's thrust until his knot begins to catch. Jason has managed to turn his face into one of the pillows that were stuffed under his hips during the second or third time they fucked missionary, but now his face is red and wet as he sobs openly into the pillow.

He isn't sure if this is the kind of change that happens in relationships, that defining moment where he figures out that _this_ man here is the one he wants after all.

Jason trembles with the possibility, and Jason has to wonder if he can just close his eyes and have Dick keep going, push him down even further or press him deep inside of this nest of theirs, and use him thoroughly and however he wants him.

Because Jason's got to say, he is more than okay with that.


End file.
